


Falling Apart

by salamoonder



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Community: criticalkink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dacryphilia, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Panic Attacks, Past Rape/Non-con, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24413242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamoonder/pseuds/salamoonder
Summary: Molly gets an unexpected (and very unwelcome) Lucien flashback.[Takes place in an AU where Molly is resurrected, sometime during the events of C2E97 at the Lavish Chateau. Spoilers through C2E26 only though, there's not really any context to 97.]
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	Falling Apart

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for criticalkink. Original prompt:
> 
> "Molly and/or any of the boys, crying kink
> 
> Sexual context preferred but not totally necessary. Okay with CNC/similar themes.  
> I'm here for rough, wet, gross, ugly crying. No single manly tear or delicate sniffles - full messy meltdown weeping here.  
> Don't care what exactly triggers it.  
> H/C welcome but not necessary."

“Faster, Caleb, _faster_ ,” Molly hisses, and digs his claws into Caleb’s shoulder for good measure.  
  
“I--am--trying--” Caleb manages, and takes a deep breath as he adjusts his grip on Molly’s waist, shifting him upward and slamming him harder into the wall.  
  
Molly whines at the adjustment and throws his head back so Caleb can get at his neck. His horns make a dull thud as they hit the wall--that’s got to be audible in the hallway, if not downstairs in the dining room, but literally all Molly cares about is getting Caleb to fucking _move_ \--  
  
“Fuck--come _on_ , I’m so close, just fucking--” he sucks in a sudden breath as Caleb’s teeth find his collarbone and settles instead for a muffled groan. Caleb hangs there, anchoring them together, and reaches a new rhythm, almost frantic in its intensity.  
  
“Please please _please_ ,” Molly mumbles, and the words in his head slowly turn to nonsense as all the sensation in his body melts down to one single burning need, every inch of his skin tingling with the almost-closeness of release, and Caleb lets go of his collarbone to press his face firmly against Molly’s, cheek to cheek.  
  
“I’ve got you, _liebling_. Breathe. Breathe.” His words are rough and low, still trying to maintain secrecy but shaking with effort. “I’ve got you. Let go.”  
Molly obediently chokes in a breath and tenses ever so slightly, and Caleb puts on a final burst of speed that sends him over the edge in a dizzying burst of swimming lights and color. He closes his eyes to ride through it as Caleb presses flush against his chest, panting, pinning him to the wall more with the force of his body than with his hands.  
  
Time shudders to a halt in the space behind his eyes, and everything goes white and empty. Molly stiffens; for a moment he can’t feel Caleb, or the depressingly thin wall against his back, or the uncomfortably warm air of the room. For a moment, he is cold and empty and alone.  
  
And then...he’s not. In that other place, in the whiteness and emptiness of it, another hand strokes down his neck, colder than Caleb’s, and another hand is at his waist, pulling him roughly forward, and this sudden wave of absolute fucking _terror_ washes over him-- _get off me, get off me, why can’t I move_ \--  
  
Molly returns to himself by inches, first vaguely aware of Caleb’s ragged breathing, and then almost immediately the sourceless _shaking_ all around them, blurring his vision when it returns, making his teeth clack together uncomfortably.  
  
“Mollymauk?” Caleb sounds panicked, urgent, and Molly can’t figure out why until he realizes that the reason that everything is shaking...is that nothing is. _He’s_ shaking. And the horrible, choked, wrenching sobs that are drowning out any further words from Caleb...those are coming from him too.  
  
“Molly,” Caleb half whispers, half shouts, and Molly can feel the desperation coming off of him in waves. He’s still inside him, awkwardly pulling out as he holds Molly’s shoulders to the wall to keep him upright, muttering “okay okay okay” to himself under his breath like a mantra. Molly resits the urge to flinch away from his touch, to free himself by any means necessary. This is Caleb. This is his friend.  
  
“You’re safe, Molly. You’re safe.” He lifts him, hugging him tight to his chest and half turning to set them both on the bed and pulling away just enough that Molly can see the fear in his wide blue eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asks, panic increasingly struggling for control of his tone. Molly just shakes his head, fear rising up and taking hold of his throat, making breathing seem impossible. He wraps his arms around his own shoulders, trying to hold onto himself, hold onto this world, this person...hold onto Mollymauk.  
  
Sobs bubble up from his chest uncontrollably, making his belly and throat and head ache and his eyes burn. He’s never experienced a fear so intense, so sudden, never felt the absolute helplessness that came with being unable to use his own limbs. He tries to stifle the sounds, to quiet himself even the slightest bit, but his chest hitches and tightens agonizingly every time he tries even to hold his breath. Eventually he gives in, laying his head against his own knees and bawling his eyes out.  
  
At this point, Caleb seems to have gotten over his panic at least enough to tentatively reach out a hand to Molly and place it in his hair. When he doesn’t flinch away, Caleb gently runs his hand down to the back of Molly’s neck and Molly suddenly jolts forward to wrap around Caleb’s shoulders, clinging to him desperately. He hides his face in the curve of Caleb’s neck, trying to stifle the sound of his cries at the very least. Caleb hesitates for a moment, still wary of spooking Molly, and then after a moment, he takes a throw blanket from the bedspread and tugs it around Molly’s shoulders.  
  
“Alright, Mollymauk. I’m not going anywhere.” He winces as the blunted tips of Molly’s horns poke into the exposed skin of his chest, but he does not flinch away. “You’re okay. You’re here and you’re okay.”  
  
The door bursts open, and Caleb’s head jerks up. Molly, who is still too miserable to care, remains pressed against Caleb’s neck.  
  
“Hey are you gu- oh shit.” Jester goes stock still in the doorway, all the teasing and bubbliness draining out of her expression to leave behind alarm and concern. She lowers her voice to a not quite whisper, eyes darting back and forth between Caleb and Molly. “Is he hurt? What happened?”  
  
Caleb shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He, ah, he got overwhelmed. I think…” He takes a deep breath and looks at Jester. “I think he just needs a moment.”  
  
“Oh. Right.” says Jester in a real whisper, and closes the door gently behind herself.  
  
As soon as she’s gone, Molly turns into a hiccuping mess, emerging from Caleb’s shoulder to promptly near-choke on air.  
  
“Ahh, _scheisse_ ,” Caleb mutters, and disentangles himself from Molly just long enough to grab the waterskin from his satchel, which is thankfully leaning against the bed. Molly clutches at his shoulders as he moves away, letting out a desperately scared whimper. “Shh. Molly. You’re alright, I-I promise.” He pulls Molly back in towards his chest, uncapping the waterskin as he does. “Here. Drink.”  
  
Molly is shaking too much to trust himself to hold the waterskin, so Caleb holds it to his lips and he drinks as much as he dares with his breathing coming in erratic gasps. Caleb replaces the cap and sets the waterskin down, resnuggling Molly in his arms and rubbing his back in slow circles.  
  
“Ca-caleb--” Molly tries, but his words still jump with each sob; he still can’t breathe right.  
  
“It’s alright, _liebling_. Hush.” Caleb pulls the cuff of his sleeve up over the heel of his hand and uses it to wipe some of the snot and tears away from Molly’s face. “We will talk when you feel better. Big breaths. You’re alright.”  
A low, miserable moan forces its way to Molly’s lips, and Caleb reaches up to cup the tiefling’s tearstained face with one hand. “I’m not leaving,” Caleb says, voice steady as he can make it, “unless you want me to. I’m not letting go, Mollymauk.”  
  
Molly gives him a little nod and folds his head in against Caleb’s chest, his sobs finally quieting. Caleb rocks him, like a child, and gradually the sobs dissolve to mostly hiccups, and the hiccups to sniffles, and finally to slow, silent tears as Molly’s control over his own breathing returns. Caleb trails a hand through his hair, stroking down to the base of his neck and back up, and mutters nonsense in Zemnian until he looks down to see Molly’s eyes flutter shut, and his death grip on Caleb’s shoulder relaxes.  
  
Caleb angles them both down to the bed, careful to keep Molly close to him, and pulls the thick comforter over them both, thoroughly exhausted.


End file.
